


Lair of the Beasts

by Lizardlicks



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Animal Transformation, F/M, Magic, Oral Sex, dragonstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:31:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardlicks/pseuds/Lizardlicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragons are a girl's best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lair of the Beasts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cladoMasochist (ThePioden)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePioden/gifts).



> Beta'd by [Inklesspen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/inklesspen)

It’s a good night for a run, Jade decides.  The winds have shifted and blow warm through the trees for the first time in months, scrubbing out the last of the damp and cold left from winter.  Things long asleep wake, calling out into the night air, making her prickle and shiver all down her spine.  Yeah, tonight is a great night.

 

She takes her wolf pelt from the chest, shakes it out and inspects it in the firelight.  Still pure, glistening white like the recently vanished snow.  It tickles her fingers in a way the soft fur can’t account for, a tingle of magic just brushing the farthest of her senses, and she grins.  The spell works on flesh, blood, and bone, but not cloth, so she shucks her simple dress and under garments.  Even if she didn’t need to strip, it would be kind of silly.  Wolves don’t wear skirts!  The little silver blade, tucked in its sheath and hung around her neck by a cord of leather, that she keeps.  Fangs should be enough to handle anything on her island, but grandpa didn’t raise a careless fool, so it stays with her always.

 

Despite the low fire in the hearth, she shivers.  It will be still be some weeks before warmth of day lingers past sunset, but once she’s wrapped herself in the skin it will hardly matter.  Jade draws the pelt around her shoulders, pulls the face over her own, and then she is falling forward-- _thump_!-- to land steady and powerful on four wide paws.

 

The world opens up under her new senses.  Everything smells so good!  There are wildflowers already blooming, and she can scent the lilac tree that grows by grandpa’s grave.  A hare passed by the cottage not too long ago.  She had stew for supper earlier and the pot smells divine, but she knows for certain that she licked it clean and rinsed it already, so there’s nothing to be gained by checking.

 

She does anyway.  Nothing.  Maybe that hare is still nearby.

 

Stop it, bad Jade!  Focus!  She always forgets how powerful the enchantment is.  It could be fun to let the wolf brain take the reins for a little while sometimes, but she has to remember who she is, and to take the pelt off before a full day and night passes.  She doesn’t want to end up like its previous owner, that’s for sure!  

 

There are still more sounds and smells calling to her from deeper into the woods anyway, so no time for dawdling.  After one last check around the cottage she had once shared with her dear departed grandfather to make sure nothing was forgotten, she paws open the latch and noses the wooden door aside, trots out and bumps it closed again with her butt.  She has no fear of anyone or anything finding it; no one from the village would dare approach the island at night, and she’s laid plenty of spells of concealment and protection anyway.  Even if a person stumbled here by accident, the magic would gently nudge them away, cause their eyes to slide over it and their feet to turn without thought.  The night is hers.

 

First she circles wide around her home, inspecting and taking note of the changes one more year has brought.  There are living things all over, tracks of creatures that come and go and come again.  Is that a squirrel?  That is so totally a squirrel.  She sniffs and snuffles around the base of the tree, puts her great paws to the bark and whines, but the squirrel only sighs a sleepy huff.  No more fun to be had here.  She takes off again.

  


She picks a deer trail and puts her snout to the ground, starts off down it at a brisk trot, but soon she’s flying through her familiar woods, stretching limbs long cramped by the deep winter and reveling in the breeze as it plays through her fur.  She is nothing but mist in moonlight, made of stars, made of the spaces between where elder gods sleep.  She is a witch, more powerful than most mortals can imagine and she owns this place wholly, down the the rocks and worms.  Humans set foot here only when she allows it.  The people across the lake say her name only in whispers, never at night; they call her the Witch Girl of the Wild and shudder.  But still they come when ever she brings her potions and charms to trade in town, to beg of her blessings and services.

 

They are frightened and small and she loves them.  They are hers, just like this island, and more than one unsavory being has learned the hard way that she will defend what’s hers with savageness.

 

Taking another sharp corner in the trail brings a glimpse of the moon hanging low over the trees, and now Jade knows where she wants to go.  The highest point of her island in the lake is bare of trees, too rocky and wind scrubbed for anything but moss to grow, and it drops suddenly away, a cliff plunging into the cold, dark water.  When she breaks the tree line, the moon is just climbing to its highest point.  It’s still a crescent today, not at its full power, not strong enough for working her craft, but it still fills her with something wild.  Primal.  She tips her head back and screams a howl of joy.  A rock nesting bird startles and and flutters back into the trees, and she offers her biggest doggy grin when it grumpily scolds her from the safety of the branches.

 

The wind here is stronger, too.  Colder.  It brings the sharp, crisp scent of snow still lingering in the mountains down and across the water.  And something else.  A wood fire, and not hers, it’s the wrong direction for that.  Approaching the cliff carefully, she peers over the lake, and sure enough, she can spot the flicker of orange light from the smaller island not too far away.

 

He’s awake then, but at this time of night?   Huh.  Well then.  The run hasn’t done much to take the edge off her restlessness.  Jade thinks she’ll stop by to see an old friend and what trouble they can get up to instead.

 

There’s a narrow trail down the cliff face.  It’s insanely steep; no human would dare chance the climb, and there’s no beach to dock a boat at either.  Just rocks and more rocks and they would have to tie a vessel to one of those and hope.  Jade does not have a boat.  She has four doggy paws with short, sturdy claws and a complete lack of self preservation.  When she reaches the bottom, she simply leaps into the water and begins to paddle out.  The cold stings and steals the air from her lungs, but the swim is short enough to tolerate.  It’s the wind, biting past her wet fur and into her skin when she pulls herself out on the gravel shore, that really hurts.  Shaking scatters droplets all around, but it doesn’t help much, so by the time she enters the fire lit cave, she’s shivering and pulling the wet pelt off as quickly as possible.

 

“Jesus, Harley!”  She’s greeted by a voice that sounds like distant thunder.  A shadow detaches itself from the wall and looms over her.  Karkat is all soot dark scales lit by ember-red eyes, and he fixes them on her with a displeased growl.  One wing, like soft leather draped over steel, unfolds to scoop her up and pull her close.  She barely gets time to lay the wolf skin out to dry by the fire before she’s pressed against a warm dragon body.  “Can’t you use a boat like normal people?”

 

“Missed you too, brimstone-breath,” she laughs and slings her arms around his neck.  God, it’s like hugging a scaly hot water bottle, it feels so good.

 

“My breath does not smell like brimstone,” he counters automatically, an old joke between the two of them.  “It’s peaches and fucking daisies, and you should appreciate the lengths I go through to practice basic oral hygiene.  Unless you _wanted_ your stubby, human sniffer full of eau de carrion.”

 

Actually, he smells like hot iron and smoke.  It’s so familiar and comforting that she leans in and breathes deeply.  He scoffs.

 

“Hey, hello Jade, did you leave the skin on too long, again?”

 

“No, I just meant what I said about missing you.”

 

“Oh,” he says very softly, like he was just handed something small and precious.  Then, “You know we see each other like every other week, right?”

 

“It’s still not the same as when you were living at home.”  She sighs, pushes her head under the joint of his wing right where the scales are small and well spaced out so he can feel the tickle of her damp hair.  “I dunno.  With grandpa gone, it just feels different.  Bigger.  And emptier.”

 

Her dragon-- because he is _her_ dragon-- rumbles a thoughtful noise and lowers his wings so he can fold them around them both in a protective shelter.

 

“Well, living in the cottage got the tiniest bit inconvenient when I couldn’t fit my fat ass through the door.”  He drips sarcasm like acid.

 

“You hush about your ass.  It’s a very nice, dragon-y kind of ass!”  Jade reaches back to give it a pat for emphasis, but she can’t quite get her hand that far, so she ends up petting his flank instead.  Point made anyway.  Karkat makes a choppy kind of snort that she knows is him trying to stifle a laugh.  She head butts him.  Ow.  Dragon skulls are hard.  Or maybe that’s just Karkat.

 

“You’re impossible, Jade Harley,” he tells her-- as if that were ever news-- and head butts back at her chest with enough force to dump her on her behind.  She just laughs and shoves at his snout with her foot, just about sticking a toe up his nose.

 

“And you--” another kick for emphasis-- “are a big, grumpy ass-booger.”

 

He swats the leg aside.  “Urgh, gross, Jade.”  Not gross enough to chase him off though.  Karkat plops his chin onto her belly and settles on the ground, forelimbs splayed to either side of her.  She likes the casual intimacy.  It’s another familiar piece of their routine, just sprawling in a comfortable tangle, touching and feeling grounded.  Like this, Jade can scratch and pet all the places he likes being touched the best but will never admit to.  She traces the curve of his jaw, running her nails in the spaces between his scales.  His ears, small and round, are the same soft, nearly scaleless skin as his wing membrane.  By the time she’s worked her way up to massaging  his horn beds, his whole body is rumbling from the purr that’s built up.  From how he’s positioned with her knees framing his neck, she can feel it rattling down through her guts and bones.  That... feels nice.  When Jade shivers, it isn’t from the cold anymore.

 

Her hands still without thinking, and Karkat takes notice.  One of his eyes that had drifted closed cracks back open.  He peers at her and his contented rumble stutters to a stop.

 

“Aw,” she protests, “Why’d you stop?”

 

“You were getting _distracted_.”  There’s a teasing playfulness to it.  Bastard knows exactly what he’s doing-- what she’s feeling.  Suddenly the air feels thicker.  She watches the subtle little twitch of his nostrils, like he thinks she can’t see him scenting her.  Hell, he can probably already smell the pique of her arousal, even long before she’s had a chance to get really worked up.

 

Jade grins back at him, all teeth, and tugs on his ears.  “Nah, you aren’t being _nearly_ distracting enough!”  

 

He scoffs with a deep, growling huff and takes the challenge exactly as she meant it.  Karkat dips his head, licks a taunting stripe from her pubic bone to her navel.  His tongue, long, flat, and neatly forked at the end, is almost unbearably hot on her lake-chilled skin, and it makes her jump in spite of the purposeful miss.

 

“How was that?” he asks, perfect picture of badly feigned innocence.  The sheer amount of smugness does things to his voice that no human could hope to replicate.  He’s dropped a whole octave, and Jade can feel the rumbling undernote lining his words in her spine.

 

“Hmm, that was a good try, but I think you can put a little more effort into it.”

 

Another lick on the inside of her thigh going up to her knee has Jade squirming.

 

“Better?”

 

“Hh, getting close.  Try again.”

 

It doesn’t matter that she’s had time and warning to prepare for it now, the heated touch of his tongue against her folds makes her gasp and twitch, butt jumping briefly off the ground.  It was just a quick pass, though.  When she glances down at him again, Karkat has his ears cocked forward and his head slightly tilted to one side.  He’s doing the dragon equivalent of a full on smirk.

 

“You jerk,” she hisses through her teeth, grabs a fist full of his stubby horns and hauls his face back down.  He barks a laugh-- ah, warm breath on her bits, even that feels nice.

 

Then he’s working right back where he left off, sweeping quick strokes up the full length of her slit.  A pause and then he takes longer, more measured lap, tasting deeply and humming in satisfaction at the sigh it draws out of her.  When Jade arches her hips to follow his mouth, he slides his taloned paws under her ass.

 

The prick of claws against her skin just adds another element of sensation.  He could shred her easily, all he would need to do in this position is flex and her sides would be spilling open, but she trusts him implicitly.  So many men have tried to woo her with sweet words, and tokens of affection, but it’s Karkat only that she would give herself to like this, with no hesitation.

 

She returns to kneading the base of his horns as she relaxes into his ministrations.  Lets her head fall back onto the the cavern floor.  Cold stone on her shoulders offers conflicting signals to the warmth surrounding the lower half of her body, slows the coil of heat that seems to transfer straight off his tongue to her insides.  The press of her thumbs is a perfect guide: slow and rhythmic when she’s in a lull of pleasure, quick, flicking twists when she’s starting to get worked up, and deep digs when he does something she _really_ likes.  If it’s too much, if he overwhelms her she only has to push and he will pull back.

 

Karkat switches with little warning from playing with her labia to dipping right into her, and Jade mewls with pleasure. “Ah- aaaoooh fuck!”

 

The second one makes her whine, whole body hitching as he takes her deep and starts to tongue fuck her in earnest.  But just like that, he’s back to little caresses.  Fuck, but she was close and this is almost cruel.  A growl rises in her throat.  She’d blame leftover magic from the pelt, but in truth she was always just a little feral to begin with.  

 

He knows she’s had enough teasing when she snarls like that.  Karkat can take a hint.  Just in case, Jade wraps her legs around his neck, crossing ankles over knees so he can’t pull away again. His purr returns, a delighted hum of bass vibrations that resonate through her.  When he adjusts his grip, he lifts her hips and resumes eating her out with enthusiasm.

 

Jade gasps, whines, pants-- screw words right now, vowels and consonants are meaningless noise.  Letters would only tangle on her tongue and get in the way, so he moans for him, echos back sounds that are almost dragon speak to his ears.  He revels in it. Karkat watches her with burning intensity, hooded eyes glowing like coals.  Jade’s breath becomes ragged, hitching and shuddering everywhere.  One hand abandons his horn to cup her plump breast, and she whimpers the most glorious sound as she thumbs at her nipple.

 

When she comes, it’s with a howl.  Jade shrieks and thrashes, all animal wildness, and ruts herself against Karkat’s still working mouth as he coaxes out as many aftershocks as her body can give.  Her nerves can only take so much before cascading pleasure spills into over-stimulation.  She lets go, with both her hand and legs, pushes him away with a shaky foot, limbs trembling with the best kind of exhaustion.  Karkat lets go and eases her gently to the floor so she can take some time to re-gather her senses.

 

Minutes later, Jade’s breathing has returned to normal and she thinks she can almost feel her legs again.  Karkat has stretched out beside her, still purring contentedly.  She can feel the twitch of movement as he slowly strokes himself.  

 

“Hey.” She rolls over so they are lying chest to chest and nudges him with an elbow.  “Let me take care of that.”

 

“Heh, thought you were gonna go to sleep.  You look pretty worn out.”  She doesn’t miss the cheeky tone at all.  Oh that it, not going to let him get away with that!

 

“Naw, this won’t take long.”  She grins when he squawks at her.  He yields when she nudges him again, though; rolls onto his back with her guidance, careful of his wings, and displays himself for her.

 

Karkat’s cock is thick, much more than Jade could ever take inside her-- at least, not without some very long and careful prepping-- but she knows plenty of other ways to get him off.  They were experimenting with each other from the time either of them had a libido to experiment with.  This is one of her favorites.

 

Jade scoots down until she can straddle his tail.  She sees his fully unsheathed dick jump and curl just the slightest bit in anticipation as he watches her position herself.  It’s nothing like a human would have, wide enough at the base that she can’t get her thumb to touch her fingers when she fits her hand around it, but tapering to a blunt point at the end.  There are ridges that, in a mating coil with another dragon, would lock them together until the deed was done, but for Jade they’re just an interesting texture.  It can move a small amount on its own, too, the tip wriggling, seeking an entrance.

 

Jade touches it, almost like she’s giving affection to a favorite pet, then takes what she can fit in hand and strokes slowly to the tip.  Karkat shudders and sighs.  It’s plenty slick with its own fluids for her to move her hand easily.  She thumbs each ridge and it passes, and each one draws out a gasp or puff.  When she looks up and grins, Karkat gulps.

 

She takes her hands back to the pillow of her tits and squeezes them together for show.  The nipples are still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, and she lets out her own small sigh when she brushes them.  Then she leans forward, settles Karkat’s cock firmly in her cleavage and starts to slide it between the swell of her breasts.

 

“Fuck, Jade!”  he chokes.  He’s trying not to buck or kick, doesn’t want to move or give away that this is already driving him to a frenzy, but it’s obvious.  Karkat was never exactly known for his willpower.  Jade gives the tip of him another squeeze before she takes him in her mouth.

 

“Oooooh--”  His claws scrape against the ground, a harsh sound that bounces off the cavern walls.  As she strokes and sucks him to completion, he gets both noisier and more animated, bucking and thrusting into her.   She can feel him falling to pieces, even before he warns her, “Fuck, gonnaaah-- I’m gonna come!”  Still, she gets a dribble of hot seed in her mouth before she can pull away quick enough.  The rest smears, dripping against her chest and his belly.  Jade swallows the hot, coppery taste.  It burns on the way down with something potent and inhuman.

 

Little tremors wrack Karkat’s body as she pulls herself up the length of him, but he twines his arms around her, brings her up the rest of the way, and sets to cleaning them both off with measured care.  They snuggle.  He’s a dragon as big as a work horse and Jade is a powerful, not-quite-mortal entity, and they cuddle like kittens.  When he can move without toppling over, Karkat lifts Jade with him and moves them both to the innermost chambers.

 

Jade is pretty sure Karkat’s hoard is the most eclectic thing a dragon has ever collected.  There are books in it, for god’s sake, and old bits of junk that he values for their sentimentality rather than their price tag.  If any errant knight ever got ideas in their head, they would be severely disappointed.  One thing he keeps are soft cushions and pelts of the non magical variety.  Not for himself-- a dragon his size has thick enough scales to sleep comfortably on just about anything-- but just for Jade.  He nudges some scraps and pieces about until it’s looking like a rather cozy nest then settles them both down.

 

Jade drops a kiss on his snout as he curls around her, and he returns a lick to her chin.  Drowsy and content, they talk in soft whispers, bathe each other in quiet conversation until the night carries them both to sleep.


End file.
